


Sillage

by All_My_Characters_Are_Dead



Series: Ship KomoSaku With Me [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: I'm Sorry, M/M, every ship needs a tragedy so here, i was stressed so i killed a character, no i'm not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 15:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10619490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/All_My_Characters_Are_Dead/pseuds/All_My_Characters_Are_Dead
Summary: Sillage - the degree to which a perfume's fragrance lingers in the air when worn (French, literally 'wake, trail')





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [A_Sirens_Lullaby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Sirens_Lullaby/gifts).



> This oneshot dedicated to my partner in crime.

Sakusa clutched his Zorua plushie to his chest with one arm, his other hand holding Komori’s. Komori was beaming as he walked beside Sakusa, the stuffed bear with the mask over its muzzle held loosely in his free hand. Sakusa tugged Komori down the sidewalk, eager to get home to add the Zorua to the mountain of stuffed animals already on his bed. He’d loved every second of their outing to the festival together - a real date for once, Komori had said when he convinced Sakusa to go, despite the crowds and noise - and Komori had won him the Zorua. In return, Sakusa had kept playing the same - probably rigged - ball toss game until he won that bear for Komori. 

“Take it easy, Kyoomi. We don’t have to rush,” Komori laughed, picking up his pace to catch up with Sakusa despite his words. Sakusa turned to give him a look - of course they had to rush, it wasn’t just the toy he wanted to get home - and tripped over an uneven patch of sidewalk. Sakusa let out a hiss of surprise as he pitched forward. He threw out his arms as he fell. Komori braced himself, gripped Sakusa’s arm, pulled him upright. Sakusa regained his footing and sighed in relief. 

Then he realized the Zorua plush wasn’t in his hand anymore. He whirled, looking around for it. 

There. 

The stuffed Pokemon had fallen into the road. Komori followed Sakusa’s gaze to the toy, then darted down the street. 

“Kyoomi, don’t-” 

Too late. Sakusa had seen the approaching car, too, and he wasn’t about to let the Zorua that Komori had won for him get run over by a car. 

“There’s time,” Sakusa murmured, abandoning the safety of the sidewalk and stooping to pick up the toy. 

“Kyoomi!” Something hit Sakusa’s back, sending him stumbling a few feet forward and making him drop the Zorua again. There was a screech, a chorus of shouts, and Sakusa regained his footing. He turned to see what had hit him and froze. The car had been moving faster than he thought. Komori was right. There hadn’t been time to get the plushie. 

Komori had thrown himself off the sidewalk, shoved Sakusa out of the car’s path.

Komori was crumpled in front of the car - it was stopped now - the screech was the car’s brakes - there was blood - Sakusa stared, uncomprehending. 

“Motoya?” His voice shook as his lips formed Komori’s name. “Motoya!” Sakusa rushed to Komori’s side, fell to his knees. Komori didn’t move. Sakusa reached for his shoulder, paused. You weren’t supposed to move someone when they were badly injured, right? 

Oh, god. Komori was hurt, and it was his fault. He hadn’t listened, he’d put himself in danger. 

And Komori had saved him. 

That realization crashed over him, and Sakusa threw caution to the wind. That was supposed to be  _ him _ laying there, his bad choices had led to this, not Komori’s. Komori hadn’t done anything wrong. Sakusa grabbed Komori’s shoulder, rolled him onto his back. 

Komori looked...pretty okay. His limbs weren’t at any unnatural angles, and it didn’t look like he was bruised or broken anywhere on his body.  

So where was the blood coming from? Sakusa’s attention shifted to Komori’s face. Fine. No broken nose, no scrapes. So where…

He’d seen the blood before he rolled Komori over. 

“Motoya, wake up. You have to tell me where you’re bleeding. I know you’re hurt, but you have to-”

“Move back. I’m a doctor.” Sakusa almost didn’t register the stranger’s words, not until they sighed and crouched on Komori’s other side. There was a hand against Komori’s neck - Sakusa wanted to bat it away, but the stranger’s words finally sank in. They were a doctor, they could help. “No pulse.” The doctor’s hands overlapped on Komori’s chest, and then they were compressing his chest, trying to get him breathing again. Sakusa watched, his limbs heavy and his mind clouded. 

Where was Komori hurt? Why wasn’t he moving? Where was he hurt? “Damn, he’s still not…”

Sakusa couldn’t watch. He turned his head away. His gaze landed on the stuffed bear. It had fallen out of Komori’s hand, and ended up wedged under the tire of the car. Sakusa was sure there would be tire tracks over the bear’s body and formerly pristine white mask. Like there should have been tire tracks on his own body. 

The Zorua had fallen by the bear. 

There was a dark, damp patch on the back of the toy’s head. Komori must have landed on it or gotten some blood on it. 

The back of the head. 

Sakusa whirled back to Komori. The doctor was sitting back, expression twisted with emotion. 

“What are you doing?” Sakusa demanded. You were supposed to keep giving CPR until paramedics arrived, weren’t you?

“Do you know him?” the doctor asked. Sakusa nodded, the motion jerky as he tried to think of why this person wasn’t still working to help Komori. “I’m so sorry. See the blood?” Sakusa’s gaze fell to Komori’s face, then shifted to his hair. 

The back of his head. It was bleeding. Komori’s normally soft, clean hair was dark and matted with his blood. 

“He hit his head. I can’t do anything else for him,” the doctor explained. “I’m so sorry.” 

That couldn’t be right. 

It couldn’t. 

Sakusa turned away again, ended up looking at the stuffed toys again. 

The bear, the prize he’d won and given to Komori because Komori had laughed and said the mask made it look like Sakusa, now marred with tire tracks Sakusa’s own body should have. 

And beside it, the Zorua, which Sakusa had asked Komori to win for him because it’s eyebrows reminded him of Komori’s, with a splash of blood soaking into the back of it’s head. 

Just like Komori.

* * *

 

Sakusa stared at the shelf above his bed. The Zorua sat on that shelf, beside the masked bear. He couldn’t help watching the stuffed animals when he thought about Komori. 

And it was impossible not to think about Komori, considering he was supposed to be attending Komori’s funeral at the moment. Instead, Sakusa was sitting in the center of his bed, his mountain of stuffed animals that normally crowded the area banished to the floor. After all, he didn’t deserve the comfort of all that softness. Not today. Not since...well. Not since Komori. Maybe not ever again. 

But those two, the two from the festival that day, he couldn’t stand to see them on the floor with the others, which was why they were on the shelf. 

He hadn’t been able to get the tire tracks out of the bear’s fur. Not because he couldn’t wash them out, but because he couldn’t make himself erase the symbol of what should have happened to him. 

The Zorua...he’d tried to get the bloodstain out of it. He’d tried for days. He’d finally resorted to bleaching it, because the dark red and the stench of Komori’s blood wouldn’t come out. So now the Zorua had a giant faded bleach-white patch on the back of its head. 

Proof that Sakusa couldn’t fix the toy, that he’d ruined it. 

Killed it, one could say. 

Just like he’d gotten Komori killed. 

Sakusa stared at the stuffed toys. 

And they stared back, their little shiny eyes accusing him, reminding him, making sure he never forgot. 

Sakusa stared at the stuffed toys until he couldn’t see them anymore because his vision was too clouded with tears, but he didn’t wipe them away, because he was alone anyway, there was no one to see him cry, no one who would dare intrude on the private, safe space of his bedroom. 

Not since…

Not since Komori…

Not since he...


End file.
